Bittersweet is Autumn

Bittersweet is Autumn

It rained today, falling from pewter-laden skies

Washing color from the world

Leaving sepia-toned throw-rugs lying hither and yon upon dampened earth,

beneath  trees.

I breathed deeply…

The scent of crumbling leaves and new death.

I am struck at how soon summer has waxed and waned.

The ripening land putting away its dancing shoes, trudging heavily now, against a wind full of autumn stories and hints of winter tales.

It treads upon sepia-toned throw rugs, beneath trees, and crumpled and swirling oak leaves.

A framed silhouette of hills and valleys…at the foot of skeleton-bare branches.

Here, in shoe boxes tucked beneath the bed, there are such pictures. Sepia-tones accentuate the bittersweet. I see my mother’s face, smiling, it is…

Like peering into a looking glass upon which an ancient and timeless spell has been cast.

Even through sepia, her hair was dark, like the bark of the wild cherry…

The wild cherry that has dropped throw rugs hither and yon…

And now,

My hair is like the bark of the white oak, dark yet gray, as I stand musing on bittersweet is the autumn.

I bend down to gather a handful of the sepia leaves and stare…

At my mother’s hands as they emerge from the sleeves of my coat.

Copyright ©  2010 Teresa K Cypher 
All rights reserved.